Red on White
by lamadeliadalai
Summary: Some things are just too much to bear. His brother Zach visiting was the final straw for Blaine.


**Warnings: depression, self-harm**

He hadn't slept in four days.

Things were always worse when he didn't sleep.

That's probably why Zach coming home was the last straw.

Usually Blaine would be ecstatic to see his brother, but on this particular day, when he hadn't slept in so long and everything felt like one giant hallucination, it was harder to take.

"I swear you've gotten shorter since the last time I saw you little brother" Zach ribbed Blaine good naturedly.

"And you haven't become any less of an asshole." Blaine smiled a weak grin at his brother.

Laughing, Zach pulled Blaine into a hug. Blaine enjoyed the feeling of it, while resisting the urge to just collapse into his arms and cry.

He hadn't slept in four days.

The anti-depression meds that the doctor put him on made him sick. They kept him awake and enveloped him in a cloud of apathy so thick he couldn't see the other side.

So he had stopped taking them. Those shitty pills were supposed to make things better, not worse.

But he smiled for Zach. Zach always worried about him.

"So how's your boyfriend doing? Kurt right?" Zach asked expectantly, waiting for Blaine to gush like he usually did.

Blaine mustered up the words, "He's good."

What he really wanted to tell Zach was that their parents had gotten into a yelling match when he asked to have Kurt over for dinner. Or that they referred to him as Blaine's "special friend".

But he kept his mouth shut and followed Zach into the kitchen where their parents were waiting.

He watched, feeling slightly sick as his parents broke into huge grins as Zach greeted them. His mother broke her decorum for once and practically jumped on Zach, hugging him and kissing his face. His father slapped him on the back and ribbed him about putting on a few pounds.

He hadn't slept in four days.

But he sat down to dinner with his family.

Pushing down the bile rising in his throat, Blaine forced food into his mouth while his parents chattered eagerly over Zach's recent escapades.

"Son, I can't tell you how proud I am that you made partner in the firm." His dad congratulated Zach for the thousandth time.

"Thanks dad, it was a lot of work, but it was worth it." Zach mumbled through his mouthful of food.

"Honey, how's your girlfriend Alice?" his mother asked.

"Oh, she's good mom. We're going on a vacation to Florida to see her family next month."

"That's wonderful! You'll have to bring her here soon. We'd love to meet her."

Blaine almost crushed the glass in his hand. Instead he just let out some sort of half strangled noise.

Zach shot him a concerned glance, but his parents tuned him out.

"Um.." Zach cleared his throat and motioned towards Blaine. "Blaine was telling me that his glee club won their regionals competition. Isn't that great?" he looked expectantly at their parents.

"Yes, very nice." Blaine's mother nodded absently.

Blaine rolled his eyes. He should tell Zach not to try. That was the same reaction she had had when he told her two weeks ago. The same reaction when he told her that he made honour roll. It was always the same.

The rest of dinner passed much in the same manner. His parents fawned over Zach and Zach tried desperately to direct some of their praise onto Blaine. Most conspicuous was what they didn't discuss: Blaine's therapist, his medication, his boyfriend.

They were nearing the end of the meal and Blaine started to breathe easier, knowing that it was almost over. He flexed his fingers idly under the table, noticing they were numb. Stupid anti-depressants.

His mother stood up to start clearing the table and Blaine saw an opportunity to get into her good books again. He started to help her clear the dishes, because it was easier to get to her, to make her forget, even momentarily that he was a massive disappointment.

She smiled slightly as he helped, and he felt a flicker of hope in his chest. Maybe she would thank him, tell him he was a good boy. He let himself hope that she might even hug him.

But his hopes were dashed when his overtired brain and numb fingers conspired against him, causing him to misjudge the distance to the counter.

The gravy boat when tumbling to the ground and the fine china smashed into a million pieces.

He hadn't slept in four days.

"Blaine! That was my mother's best china! Look what you've done! Can't you do anything right?" she screeched, dropping to her knees to pick up the pieces.

"Mom..." Zach started, trying to minimize the impact of her angry words.

But it was too late. Her words sent Blaine over the edge. He turned on his heel and ran from the room.

"Blaine! Blaine wait!" he could hear Zach calling after him but he kept running.

He had been fighting the urge for four days, the desire had kept him awake for four nights, but now he would do it.

He swung open the bathroom door violently and then slammed it shut behind him.

Heart racing and fingers shaking, Blaine opened the medicine cabinet and took out one of his razors. He expertly slid out one of the blades and cradled it in his palm.

He could hear someone running up the stairs and then pounding on the door.

"Blaine, come out. Talk to me."

Blaine knew he didn't have much time before Zach broke down the door, so he worked quickly. He unbuckled his belt and slid out of his jeans, sitting in his boxers on the cold tiles.

He brought the razor up to the inside of his thigh and pushed in.

Blood.

He shuddered as he watched the drops drip down his leg. Good. It was so good to feel something after four days of drug induced haziness.

"Blaine, don't be upset. She didn't mean it. You know how she is about her fucking china." Zach was still pounding on the door outside.

Zach didn't know. He didn't know about the therapist. He didn't know about the cutting. He didn't know about the anti-depressants. Blaine didn't want him to know. He needed Zach to think he was okay.

The more lines he cut into the familiar track on his thigh, the more he felt the effects of not sleeping for four days.

With each trickle of blood, he felt closer to peace, closer to sleep. So he cut deeper because god, he hadn't slept in four days.

Remembering his brother waiting outside the door, Blaine pushed himself up off the floor and turned on the shower.

"I'm taking a shower! Talk to you in a bit." He called to Zach, and then listened at the door for the sound of his footsteps walking away.

Sighing with relief, he let the shower run, sitting back down on the floor.

Blood.

He lengthened the lines, relishing the feeling of sweet release.

He watched the drops of blood dribbling down his thigh and dripping onto the tiles with satisfaction. He stretched out on the tile, lying down and admiring the red on white. This was all he had wanted. It had kept him wide awake; itching, seething, needing for _four _days.

Now he could sleep.


End file.
